The pathway to heaven is rough. The streets are not tarred. The bells are not ringing. Where is God?
Apart from the sound of the water dripping from the tap in the bathroom, I couldn't hear anything. I couldn't even hear my heart beating inside my chest.
"This is going to be my last attempt," I said to myself.
I tried to turn around as I felt the impact of the drug I took. I tried to move my limbs but I couldn't. I closed my eyes and saw myself dying. It was terrible. Then, suddenly, I saw Jesus Christ looking down at me. His feet, white as snow. His hair, colorful as gold. He took my arm and told me to get up.
"I will give you another chance, Perer," he said.
"Why?" I asked, confused.
"Because you deserve it."
I didn't know what else to say. I just stood there, shocked. I stood in front of the son of God I had condemned most of my life and I couldn't say anything. All I could think about was my book. The diary I had writt
Chibuzor Victor Obih was born in the southern part of Nigeria. Delta State to be precise. His writing includes essays, poetry and short stories. He likes to play soccer, read, study and above all, write. He is currently a fourth year student of a renowned public university in Nigeria. The University of Port-Harcourt is where he is pursuing a bachelor's degree in Mechanical Engineering. Perer Ford: Diary of a Stranger is his second book and his second attempt to explore the beautiful world of a novelist. To stay connected with him and his works, you can follow him on Instagram using the account name, Chibuzor Victor Obih or follow him on Facebook using the account name, Author Chibuzor Victor Obih.
Imagine a life where everything you ever wished for could be given to you at your own request. Just imagine! Try to think of it for a second and feel the wonderful nature of such a life. Well, that is the kind of life I always dreamt of, the kind of life I told my parents existed, somewhere, lost in the shadows of the universe.My name is Perer not Peter. I know you may be wondering how the hell I got such an awkward name. Well, you don't have to wonder for too long. I will give you the opportunity to do something quick and simple. Take a pen and write my name. Then, switch the middle letter in my name Peter and change it to the letter "r." That is simple, right? Yeah, it is.My full name is Perer Ford. Read that well. Perer Ford. And I am a crazy teen who likes to have a lot of fun. Even though I may not fit your perfect description of a perfect teenager or a boy with a six pack and a broad chest, I bet I can easily fit into your world, but I will leave that for you t
It was roughly ten minutes past four, early in the morning and still dark, when I woke up to someone touching my feet.I know it may feel weird when you are having a crazy dream about falling from the top of a treehouse, and when it seems you are about to land and crash on the ground, you suddenly realize you are on your bed with an intruder romancing your feet. That is how I felt when my cold feet came in contact with foreign hands. I groaned and mumbled to myself, half asleep."Perer!" I jerked fully alert at the sound of the treacherous voice above me. It was my sister."Christle!" I said in surprise, aware that she had arrived from a night party.In case you are thinking about her name and feel it is odd and awkward, you are not alone in your silent quest. I feel the same way too. Sometimes, I try to accept a very funny idea I brought up which I think is true. It has something to do with her naming ceremony. I think my parents were probably excited th
Well, after spending the last three days watching TV and reading short stories about kids who had lost their way home, I was really excited that I would finally be doing something I have always had in mind for a while — going to the park.The problem with making yourself believe in someone is that you never give yourself the opportunity to consider the other options available in the table. What if they let me down? What if they don't show up when I need them? What if I don't get the chance to make my dream come into reality and have some fun?You don't consider all the questions I mentioned above because your mind has been programmed to accept the fact that your desires will come to pass and nothing else. I think there is a term for that condition, but I don't know what it is anyway and I am not in the mood to think about it.Today, I just sat on the couch, in our not too large sitting room. My Dad's phone was close by — a few cen
I have been grounded for three days now. Dad made me to wash his car three times today without showing me any compensation by dropping a few wad of notes in my palm. I guess it is my punishment for assuming my sister was the female caller and deciding to take adult matters into my own hands.A lot of people say that curiosity always kills the cat. I don't know if it is true or not. All I know is that I was a curious person who wasn't a cat or a cat lover. Actually, I hate cats. Those creatures never seem to understand when they need to be in their own personal space. Yesterday, when I went to the public dump site to empty some trash, I saw a cat searching for something in a black sack. Whatever it was looking for was none of my business. I was only concerned about its bright eyes that kept on staring at me in the dark. Why can't it just take what it wants and leave me alone?It took moments of bravery and self motivation before I got the confidence to actually look thr
Mum was feeling sick today but luckily she got well after taking some tablets of paracetamol. Initially, I was planning on cancelling my plans with Dad's ex-girlfriend but the thoughts of actually getting to know what she and Dad did couldn't leave my head.Yesterday, after Dad woke me up to wash his car, I mistakenly came across some crumpled papers in the passenger's seat. Believe me, I saw some weird stuffs about jumping down a bridge or digging up a grave. I don't know what Dad was doing with those kind of stuffs in his car but what got my attention was an address written on a piece of old office papers. It was the same address that Sarah gave to me. Whether Dad was cheating on Mom with Sarah, I was going to find out soon.Sarah called my Mum's phone back after I called her and told her to call me in ten minutes time. Her voice was as lively as before. Full of a lot of expectations."Hello!" I said."Hi! What are you doing today?" Sarah asked as if sh
Today, as I came out of the bathroom and ate my breakfast of hot tea and bread, Mum sat on the couch watching an early morning diet show on the TV. I can't remember the name of the show but I know it has something to do with eating fruits everyday. Maybe it is called: Eating fruits with Damian John. If you are wondering why I came up with that name, it is obvious that the lead presenter of the show was Damian John!Today was like any other morning— boring, almost as if the big heavenly beings in the sky were hearing my cries everyday and making it worst. The time I spent with Sarah didn't change anything. All I could gather was that Dad was still keeping in touch with her even though he had angrily sent her out of our home in the name of preserving his name in front of me. Well, as far as I knew now, I can't say if he is cheating on Mum. I will have to fix another meeting with her before the end of this week if I were to figure out that."Perer," Mum called me an
My big sister came today with a lot of smiles in her face and a big demand for money. You are free to call her Christle.Anyway, I am starting to wonder if I should get mad at her for holding my money for too long or ask Clag's parents for their son's whereabouts. It is almost a week now and Clag was yet to return my soccer boots.The other day, after I was done exercising in the morning, I saw Clag's Mum trying to cut the short grasses in their front yard and after moments of desperately trying to get her attention, she only waved a hand at me and went inside. Damn!This morning, while I was waiting for my big sister to be done with the bathroom, I remembered she was fond of keeping money in her purse and I was so tempted to find her purse and open it.I will have to thank someone later for ensuring I did not yield to my temptations because my big sister was about leaving the bathroom when I was conside
Chibuzor Victor Obih was born in the southern part of Nigeria. Delta State to be precise. His writing includes essays, poetry and short stories. He likes to play soccer, read, study and above all, write. He is currently a fourth year student of a renowned public university in Nigeria. The University of Port-Harcourt is where he is pursuing a bachelor's degree in Mechanical Engineering. Perer Ford: Diary of a Stranger is his second book and his second attempt to explore the beautiful world of a novelist. To stay connected with him and his works, you can follow him on Instagram using the account name, Chibuzor Victor Obih or follow him on Facebook using the account name, Author Chibuzor Victor Obih.
The pathway to heaven is rough. The streets are not tarred. The bells are not ringing. Where is God?Apart from the sound of the water dripping from the tap in the bathroom, I couldn't hear anything. I couldn't even hear my heart beating inside my chest."This is going to be my last attempt," I said to myself.I tried to turn around as I felt the impact of the drug I took. I tried to move my limbs but I couldn't. I closed my eyes and saw myself dying. It was terrible. Then, suddenly, I saw Jesus Christ looking down at me. His feet, white as snow. His hair, colorful as gold. He took my arm and told me to get up."I will give you another chance, Perer," he said."Why?" I asked, confused."Because you deserve it."I didn't know what else to say. I just stood there, shocked. I stood in front of the son of God I had condemned most of my life and I couldn't say anything. All I could think about was my book. The diary I had writt
"The first time I have ever thought of killing myself was in Port-Harcourt. I wanted to make my death quick. Less painful! I wanted to pass any sharp thing through my body and bleed till I was dead. I didn't realize how painful it was until I grew older," I said to the therapist."Where were your parents when you were going through all of this?" The therapist asked."What can I say about my parents," I said, thinking. "Dad stayed with us until he divorced Mum some months ago. Then I was sent to live with my uncle here as if I was the cause of their divorce. Dad was always thinking about life. He constantly joked about God. For your information, Dad hates God. I don't know the exact reason why he hates God, I only know he hates God. Anytime someone mentions the name of God, he gets pissed.""Do you think your Dad's hatred for God is the reason why you hate God too?""I don't think so," I swallowed hard. "My case is different from Dad. I only want answers t
For days, I have been pondering about the meaning of my life and I can tell you that I haven't been gripped by the fear of it even if it is the slightest bit of it. Have you ever been scared of dying and as well feel you are not afraid of living? Only two days did I hear a preacher speak of eternal life and it resounded in my ears for as long as I could remember. It was the first time a person read a bit of my mind without knowing me. Do you think I am slowly turning to God?For so long I have dreamt of Clag and Danny. And for so long I have demanded an answer as to why I was brought to this life, but yet, there haven't been any answers. For some reasons, I reckon, I am but only a roaming lifeless mustard seed enclosed in a showcase and packaged in a nylon called life. To prove my point, think of an empty space with an empty sack lying downwards. Can you imagine that?I left home today to visit Goodness. A newness of
"Thank you for coming today," the therapist said. "I was afraid you wouldn't come because of the way you sounded when you left my office the other day.""Can we continue from where we stopped. As you can see, I am already getting tired of this introductions.""I understand. I understand, Perer."The therapist turned my file to the next page."I thought I would never say this about you but you are an incredibly smart person. You deserve a good life.""Almost everyone does," I replied."Some, more than others. Those who set goals, work very hard, stay out of trouble and complete their education deserve a better life.""Can we get on with this, ma? I am trying hard not to freeze to death.""Are you cold?""No! But I am freezing yo death inside of me.""Give me time."I watched as the woman looked at my file, raised it up, turned it over and placed it back on
"Seven children?" Miss Bisi repeated. "I am sorry, you want us to have seven children.""Yes!" Uncle Max smiled."And you mustn't apologize all the time. It is permitted for couples to share diverse opinions on children. As long as there is love, there is unity.""And you want us to have peace in a home filled with seven children?"Uncle Max didn't mind having lots of children even if it was a dozen because he had spent most of his whole life being alone. The fact that Miss Bisi wanted less than seven kids was not going to change his mind."I was thinking," I interrupted, "with the rate of inflation going on in Nigeria and with the way jobs are getting fewer, how are you guys going to raise seven children in an unstable mixed economy?""God will provide," Uncle Max smiled."Yes! God will provide," Miss Bisi added, supporting his statement. "What is on my mind is not giving birth but being referred to as a married woman. I want people to start
"I want to help you, Perer," the therapist said. "We agreed to meet two days ago. Why did you delay?""I can't answer that, ma. And you can't help me. I am already a lost cause who is swimming on the surface of the earth. My time will come and I will soon die.""I understand," the therapist wrote something down on a book. "Any memories of your childhood you might want to share with me? Since the conversation about the people you care about last time did not lead us anywhere, I thought it would be best if you tell me about your childhood.""There is nothing to talk about in my childhood. It was a moment that has passed. It can't come back again even if I want it to."“Are you happy with the way your life is right now, Perer?”"Happiness is a subjective question, ma. It can mean a lot to a lot of people. Some people are in a relationship not because they are happy about it but because th
My day started almost in a haste. It started with the early morning sun shining in a rush before the rain started falling slowly from the sky. The rain fell like fine sifted unwanted powder thrown from above. I was still in Enugu and I was still at Uncle Max's house, acting with utmost perfection as if everything was alright with me. Not for one single time did Uncle Max wonder if my silence was a new found habit or if it was a cage I had deeply fallen into. The lack of communication that started between us two weeks ago was still growing everyday as if it had an unquenchable hunger that needed to be settled. The lack of communication bothered me as I counted the number of days remaining for the year to end. One hundred and fifty two days!"Miss Bisi is coming today," Uncle Max said as he served me a plate of rice and stew. "She has been asking questions about you and I have been finding lies to tell her. What is really wrong with you, Perer?"I felt my jaw drop but I
I did not talk. I could not talk as I sat on the white plastic chair. The therapist repeated the question, and again, instead of a response, all she got from me was a bland dying stare."Perer, relax. I want you to relax. I hope the plastic chair is comfortable?""Relaxation is not something that I fancy these days. Say what you want to say. I will answer as much as I can answer.""Alright," the therapist wore her glasses. "Perer, it may interest you to be informed that I have read your file over and over again and I still don't understand what your problem is. You said you are not suicidal but yet you are depressed. Do you care to explain what you mean by that statement? I will give you time to think about my question while I go through your file. I have decided to not charge you because I admire your courage to seek help. It is not common for young people of your age to admit they are suicidal. They see it as a crime!"I inhaled softly as I climbed into